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Page 97
The Lady Ela was more than usually ill, William reported. John looked at him with dull eyes. The queen was known to be with child now and John, with the legitimate excuse that he dared not touch his wife for fear he would do some harm to the long-awaited heir, was making merry with a dozen ladies at a time. He had little interest or strength for anything else. Moreover, he knew Lady Ela well and was aware that her husband's absence for three months without an occasional visit would increase her ill health markedly. He smiled lazily as he gave Salisbury permission to leave.
"I do not know why you do not strangle her, brother," he said. "I promise you, there is no man who would not call it justifiable murder. Certainly not I, and I would be your judge."
"I am accustomed," Salisbury replied, grinning. "There are worse things that can befall a man than a wife who desires his company. She is less ill when I am with her."
"Then go, by all means. Even I have been receiving letters."
"I am sorry, John. I will tell her not to do that again. You should not be troubled by Ela's megrims."
"Do not scold her," John replied indifferently. "I assure you, her letters do not trouble me at all."
No, Salisbury thought, bowing himself out, just now nothing troubles you. At another time he might have tried to rouse his brother, but at present he was pleased that John should be idle. When the king woke from this lethargy that afflicted him periodically, he would rush into feverish activity, and Salisbury was worried about what that activity would produce. For one thing, it would bring the king back to England and, flown with his French success, John had determined on a new round of taxes. Further, he would doubtless begin to press the Pope to approve the Bishop of Norwich as Archbishop of Canterbury.
A minor matter, but important to those involved,

 
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